Forbidden
by Fricti0n
Summary: There are rules. This is a basic concept of the world. Ones that exist as guidelines and others that are to be enforced with blood and vengeance. "A demon and an angel should never fall in love," it is written. However, what happens when one angels saves the one they are supposed to kill? What will happen to the two? .:TORTURE, AU, OOC, RELIGIOUS STUFF, COLLAB WITH MARIAHJEAN:.
1. Prolouge

There are rules. This is a basic concept of the world. Ones that exist as guidelines and others that are to be enforced with blood and vengeance. Though, most of the more absolute rules are not followed by humans. However, it is because they are just that - humans.  
Angels and demons - and, yes, those are real - live their lives a little bit differently.  
"A demon and an angel should never fall in love," it is written, "Correction; they should never meet and live long enough to do so. Angels are meant to kill the wicked and protect the creation of their Lord. If an angel and a demon should cross paths, the angel must kill the demon before they have the chance to lay waste to the beauty of God's creation - or die trying."  
It's simple, really. The damned and the mortal are separated for a reason, and it should stay this way. However, there are rare occasions when the two beings cross paths, and in the event that this occurs, the guardian angels of the world are to take action and eradicate and Demon that manages to claw its way out of the pits of hell.  
But, compassion has a strange way of changing the workings of this world. Very strange, indeed...


	2. Eren

'Humans are odd,' Eren thought, gazing down upon them from the 4th floor balcony of a rather small skyscraper, 'So easily tempted. Fragile. So on and so forth...' The guardian angel sighed, 'That's why we have to protect them though, I suppose. From scum like-' he stopped, noticing a limping figure below him. Nobody else saw the figure. Nobody else realized what it was. Eren dropped down, his white boots making a loud clicking noise as he landed on the pavement. He stared deep into the demon's bloodshot eyes, stopping the raven-haired male in his tracks, 'From scum like that.'

"You. Demon." Eren hissed, watching as the demon stopped in his tracks and glared up at the guardian. His grey emotionless eyes bore into the vibrant green of Eren's, but for a second, the Angel could have sworn he saw a pang of fear rush through the demon's gaze. However, he couldn't let that sway him.

"Look here you damned son of a bitch. I will give you one chance to crawl back to hell right now, or, so help me," Eren began, pulling out a mighty blade from its sheathe, the silver shining brightly in the Earth's sunlight, "I will end you in this pathetic place."

The demon smirked slightly before falling to his knees, holding tightly onto his bloody side. The angel felt a pang of guilt pulse through his holy body, but he ignored it. 'I cannot feel sorry for this idiot,' the green-eyed angel assured himself, 'He's a demon and he deserves much worse than this.' He gripped the blade tighter as he watched the once powerful being cough up dark crimson blood all over the grey pavement of the sleeping city. Eren could only react with a disapproving glower.

At this, the raven haired demon made the risky decision to try and get away, and oh did it try. However, it wasn't so much succeeding at the task. He slowly rose from his scraped and bleeding knees, barely supporting his own weight with shaking legs. Eren could only watch in slight amusement as the demon stumbled his way through the empty sidewalks. It didn't take much for the blasphemous creature to fall to his knees, and plunge into unconsciousness.

'I could kill him here,' Jaeger thought, walking closer to the wounded creature, 'Put him down like a human's pet.' He circled the demon once or twice, noticing the amount of wounds it had.

The back of his black shirt was torn and ripped, blood seeping through the dark cloth from the gashes that laced his back. His large bat-like wings were in worse condition than his posterior, though. His right wing had snapped like a chopstick and the flesh of the other wing was torn and shredded, looking as if a cheese grater had run its metal claws through the black skin. Blood coated the wing with a disgusting shade of red.

The demon's fingers were bent and twisted in painful looking ways, as well. However, the ring finger of his left hand was in the worst condition. It had snapped so far back that the bone was even peeking out from under the pale skin.

The creature sported a pair of black pants, torn in multiple places so that they were actually more like shorts. Those, too, had been stained with blood. His torso was abnormally thin, as well, and the bottoms fit all too loosely around his waist.

Green eyes trailed down to the demon's short legs, noticing the scars and gashes that lay there. There were small tears on both his calf muscles and rough looking stitches were found all too tightly laced through metal rings that pierced and tugged at his flesh. On the beginning of his calf, right under his knee and at the end almost directly on the tendon at the back of his ankle there were deep incisions that had been loosely stitched. Eren could only wonder what any of this meant.

He was frightened to know what the demon had endured, but a part of him still thought that perhaps he deserved what he got. Though, if the back of this demon looked so bad, he was terrified to know what the front of his body looked like, regardless.

Slowly, the angel crouched down and gathered the demon in his arms, gently flipping him over. Blood seeped from the wound on his side. Sizeable gashes rested on the center of his pale stomach and large horizontal scars decorated the male's upper arms.

Gazing up to his face, Eren saw a long bleeding wound starting at the end of his nose to his chin that crossed over his lips towards the corner of his mouth. His cheeks and eyes looked sunken in, as if he hadn't eaten in months, which would only make sense, considering how his hip bones had been protruding before.

Eren could have ended him right here, put him out of his misery. But whatever small part of the angel was still human desperately wanted to help the wounded creature.

He stared at the demon in his arms for a moment, then sighed in frustration. "I don't know why I'm doing this, I really don't - you're a demon, I'm supposed to have killed you by now!" He scorned himself, opening his large, white wings, "But I am going to help you instead. Who knows, maybe you'll be different..." He frowned at the unconscious demon, walking forward with the creature in his arms and taking off.

-x-

_Eren never wanted to be here. It wasn't his choice to fight this war. It wasn't his place to fight this war. It wasn't anybody's place. This was not how he wanted to spend his life. He wanted to be a doctor. He wanted to help heal the innocent- not the opposite. He never wanted to hurt people. It just wasn't his nature. _

_Eren had been stationed in a small town in the country of Vietnam. Dying children and wounded civilians covered the streets. There was so much blood. There was so much screaming. Cannons boomed in the distance and gunfire was all around him. Eren couldn't stand to see the poor civilians injured. So he did what he did best, he helped them. _

_He set up a small camp, with the intention of curing the injured and sick from either side. Word spread quickly and many people rushed over, pleading with him to patch them up. It made Eren happy to find that he could help people in a situation where they thought that all hope for them was lost. But even though Eren though it was a great idea, the people back at home didn't think so. They accused him of being a traitor. Of abandoning his post when he was needed there most. And when put on trial, the judge agreed. _

_Soon a verdict was reached. _  
_Eren Jaeger was to be put to death._

_If anything, Eren was more infuriated then afraid. Was helping people really a crime? Was caring for the ill and wounded such a terrible thing? Was helping people who were suffering so unspeakable that he deserved to die?_

_The time came where he was to die. All day before his execution came, he prayed. He prayed to God that he would go to heaven, that he would be able to help people in the afterlife. _

_His execution was by gunfire. He was tied to a wooden chair, blindfolded. He couldn't see the 16 men aiming their guns at the brunette. All he heard was 'FIRE!' And felt the pain of bullets rip through his body. _

_Do you know when they say 'Your life flashes before your eyes' when your life is up? It's true. Eren saw his life. He saw himself grow up, go to college, and getting drafted. _

_Light blinded his eyes. Eren looked up, seeing a large set of stairs in front of him. Being the confused person he was, Eren walked up those stairs. _

_He was greeted by a glowing figure. His body was tall, covered in a fine white robe. Behind the tall figure was a large golden gate. _

_"Eren Jaeger." The booming voice spoke, scaring the dead boy. The gates behind the figure opened. "You are dead. After you went against your own team to help the others in need, we have decided your fate." Eren tensed. The gates behind the figure opened, and the figure smiled. "Welcome to heaven, Eren." _

_-X-_

Eren plopped the demon on the bed, grabbing a roll of bandages from the drawer beside him. The angel picked up some rubbing alcohol and a rag.

The guardian removed the demon's shirt and began his work on patching him up. He poured the alcohol on the rage and cleaned the wounds that covered the demon.

"Oh Lord, what happened to you?" He miles, running his pale hands over the large wounds. He could see faint burns on the demon's bare shoulders.

It took roughly two hours to bandage the demon. The wounds were so bad in some places, yet in some places they weren't even that bad.

Eren had left the room for a moment, only to get the wounded creature a glass of water. When he had come back, he saw the bandaged demon wake up with a gasp.

The angel grabbed his sword handle from his waist. Quietly, he took the sword out of his sheath and put it behind his back. He watched closely as the demon sat up and winched. The demon grabbed his side, lifting up his shirt, he watched the demon look at his blood soaked bandages, confused. Then suddenly, the demons head snapped to the side. Green met gray as the mortal enemies stared each other down. Horror flashed across the demon's once emotionless face, before returning back to normal. However, he couldn't hide the fear in his gray, tired eyes.

Eren stared at the demon in confusing, tilting his head at an angle. The angel cleared his throat before asking.  
"What's your problem, demon." He spat. He watched as the demon swallowed hard, glancing at the white bedsheets. His lips parted as he was about to say something, but the words died in his throat.

The angel walked closer, watching the demon stiffen as the angelic creature came closer to him. His large sword dragged across the wooden floor.

_-Of course it wasn't normal for a angel to be helping a demon. However, for the demon having this reaction, knowing what he was, was unheard of.-_

Eren took a step.  
"Where did you come come from?"  
Another step  
When did you arrive here?  
Another step  
"What happened to you?"  
As he took a step, the angel watched the demon tense up more.  
One more step  
"How did you die?"  
The angel stopped, his green eyes staring at the demon.  
"Most importantly,"  
The angel paused, leaning in close to the tense demon.  
"Who even are you?"


	3. Unknown

He had been caged and restrained for so long that the sensation of light legitimately burned his flesh. Even the slightest breeze felt like grits being dragged against his wounds. What happened, again? Where was he? The demon could hardly remember. "Run," "hide," and "don't let them see you," was about all the information he could retain. He just knew that wherever he was right now was not where he was supposed to be - nor did he have any desire to be there in the first place.  
'I don't know anything.'  
The demon didn't exactly "fit in" here, either. He stuck out like a sore thumb, in fact. Black on white. Red on gold. So on and so forth. He was a demon. They were angels. This was Heaven. He belonged in Hell. So... how did he get here again...? He could hardly remember.  
'I don't know anything.'  
Stumbling and forcing himself to stay on his feet was about all the demon could do to keep moving forwards. His steps were unbalanced. His footfalls seemed to be growing louder with each step. And god, was he dizzy. But there was a door in front of him. It seemed within reach, yet at the same time, a million miles away. He had to reach it, though, and concentrating on that goal was about the only thing keeping him conscious.  
'I don't know anything.'  
He reached out a shaky hand, forcing the door open with all the strength he could muster, and he threw himself out it. The next thing the demon knew, he was falling full speed through the air, and when he landed, he landed hard. Momentarily, he couldn't even breathe, and all he could do was lay there and choke on the nothingness that filled his lungs. But it's not like that was going to kill him, no, not even close. Finally he gasped, the chilled air rushing into his system - a sure sign that he would be withstanding the world's abuse for yet another day. How did it come to this, though, he wondered.  
'I don't know anything.'  
Standing shakily, he managed to turn his entire body and look around himself. People. Hell, they were everywhere. Sobbing and exchanging mournful glances. Huddling over headstones and gathering around tombs. How fitting. A cemetery full of useless people. If only he could be seen by their mortal eyes, then, perhaps, they would be naive enough to help him. But god forbid. No. He was to suffer.  
'I don't know anything.'  
The raven haired male gripped his side, holding tightly to it as if his organs would spill out if he didn't. He staggered onwards, out into the city streets and down a few back alleys before finally ending up on a poorly lit sidewalk. He would have kept going, too, had it not been for the angel that landed in from of him.  
"You. Demon." The angel stated.  
He looked up, locking eyes with the angelic being and smirked slightly. Perhaps this is how he would finally meet his end. Suddenly, the ground shifted beneath him and he collapsed onto his knees. The demon wrapped another arm around his torso, chuckling slightly, barely audible.  
'I don't know anything.'  
"Look here you damned son of a bitch. I will give you one chance to crawl back to hell right now, or, so help me," the angel continued, unsheathing a blade that gleamed gloriously when he held it, "I will end you in this pathetic place."  
The demon smiled inwardly, coughing up a considerable amount of blood onto the pavement. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to meet his end - and yet, there was something in the angels green eyes that terrified him.  
'I don't know anything.'  
And so he ran and he stumbled and he gripped onto the wall for dear life as he fled in a pathetic display of terror. But he could practically hear the angel laughing at him, although there was only silence hanging in the air.  
'I don't know anything.'  
The angel drew closer and the demon found he could no longer stand. His world spun and contorted around him, and he was sure that he heard the angel speak. What is said, though, remained completely incomprehensible as the demon sank into unconsciousness.  
'I don't know anything.'  
'I don't know.'  
'I don't know.'  
'I don't know.'  
'I don't know.'  
'I don't know.'  
'I swear...'  
-x-  
_His eyes burned, but he couldn't close them. His body ached, but he couldn't rest. He was exhausted to the point of nausea, but he /could / not / sleep./ They didn't like it when he slept. They detested it, in fact. The moment he even thought about dozing off the loud crack of a whip could be heard and searing pain tugged at his flesh. When they looked away, he would attempt to drift off for a mere moment and snap back to reality before they had time to catch him in the act - but their eyes were always faster than his dulled reflexes and constantly he would find himself awakened with more missing flesh than before and small streams of blood cascading down his back.  
That's how it always went day in and day out.  
He should have learned by now.  
_**He should have learned.**__

_But god, he was so tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep and forget this agony he was enduring, if only for a little while. Out of everything they had tried on him, this had to be one of the worst things. It was as if the pain he'd delivered on others in life was being returned to him tenfold in death. He couldn't sleep, he told himself, he had to stay awake. But alas, his eyes betrayed him, fluttering shut as he quietly rocked back and forth in an attempt to stimulate himself. The demon knew that he would regret this.  
Actions had consequences.  
He knew this all too well.  
But within seconds of shutting his eyes he dropped into slumber. And yet, he was not awakened by the usual pain he would expect. It was a searing, burning, scorching sensation that grew more intense with each second. He could practically feel his insides blistering and the scent of burning flesh saturated the air. What was happening? What was this? Why-  
He yelped, suddenly convulsing and seizing, a shooting pain rushed throughout his being. And then it was over. And he could barely breathe. He could barely move. It happened again and again and again and again and again and again. But the worst part?  
He couldn't even see what was going on. He had been blindfolded and gagged and strapped down to a cold silver table that burned his skin on contact.  
"So, you fucking scum," a voice taunted, violently removing the gag, "Enlighten me, what kind of an attack is Lucifer planning?"  
Suddenly the demon broke out into a coughing fit, "I don't- I don't know anything," he choked out between strained gasps for air.  
"Well then how about this," the archangel continued bitterly, "Who's leading what branch?"  
"I don't know..." he replied hoarsely.  
"When are they going to invade?"  
"I don't know."  
"Where are they going to strike first?"  
"/I / don't / know./"  
The archangel sighed with exasperation, "Fine then, tell me, how many of you abominations has he recruited for his army, hmm?" she continued demandingly.  
abominations has he recruited for his army, hmm?" she continued demandingly.  
The demon tilted his head up, snickering slightly, "...Enough to wipe the floor with you assholes, I would hope," he teased, "And if you even think about a counter  
The attack, he'll kill the hostag-"  
'Shit...!'  
He shouldn't have let that slip.  
"What?" the archangel demanded, only to be met with tense silence, "What did you just say?" She strode towards him, placing a hand tightly around his neck and using the other to rip off the blindfold. "How many hostages do you have?!" she demanded, tightening her grip on his throat, "How many!?"  
He took a moment to gather himself, then locked his gaze with hers. They were frozen like that for what felt like an eternity. Then he spat at her.  
The rage he witnessed next was horrifying. She turned away slightly, and he almost thought that maybe - just maybe - they were going to leave him alone for a while. But in the blink of an eye she had taken her blade and sliced a deep gash straight across his torso. From there it took almost 6 other archangels to peel her off of him.  
As she was being escorted out of the smallish room, though, she stopped dead in her tracks.  
"Make him suffer," was all she said, not once looking behind her.  
There had been another angel standing by a large switch at the time. He exchanged consulting gazes with some of the others in the room, nodding at her request.  
"Make him suffer," she said. And god, that's exactly what they did.  
The angel reached out, flipping the switch, and suddenly an agonizing electrical current rushed through the demons body._

He jolted awake, greedily gasping in as much air as he could handle, and without warning, a sudden pain shot through his ribs. The demon's hand instantly clasped his side - but something was wrong. Cautiously, he lifted the fabric of his shirt. However, what he saw was not a field of bloody gashes and blistering, burning sores. Rather, a thick layer of gauze had been draped around his torso. But… Why? Why would anyone ever help him?

He was a monster.

So wh-

Footsteps.

The demon snapped his head to the side, only to be greeted with the same green eyes that had terrified him what only felt like moments earlier staring him down.

His heart began to pound rapidly in his chest and his breath became overwhelmingly shaky, but he couldn't let it show - god, no. Any weakness whatsoever would be his downfall, he was sure. Yet, the demon couldn't hide the fear that lingered within his hardened gaze, and he knew sure the angel saw it, too.

The demon had seen the angle adjust something on his waist only moments earlier, then shift the glass in his hand so he was holding it all too nonchalantly. Joke was on him if he expected the raven haired male to ingest _that_ any time soon. The demon wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what that was - or rather, what it could be.

The angel cocked his head to the side. "What's your problem, _demon_?" he questioned accusingly. The demon swallowed hard, his mouth going dry and his gaze breaking away from the angel's, swiftly locking itself on his hands as they clasped the white sheets. Goodness, he hadn't even realized he was doing that. He was about to say something, he really was, but whatever words had disappeared as a slight chill ran up his spine.

The angel moved closer, the demon becoming immediately tense.

"Where did you come from? When did you arrive here?" the robed male asked, taking a step closer between each remark.

"What happened to you?"

The demon's breath hitched and he hunched his shoulders. What happened to him?

_Blood._

_So much blood. _

_Rivers of it. _

_Puddles of it. _

_Lingering stains on grey cement._

"How did you die?"

The demon did not respond. He refused to cave. His answers were always wrong. Never good enough. **Insufficient.**

"Most importantly," the angel continued, coming to a complete stop, "_Who even are you?_"


	4. Eren (2)

He stared at the demon, waiting for a response. Crossing his arms, he was about to open his mouth when the demon started to talk.

"Why-" The raven started, before being cut off by his ferocious coughing. It startled the brunette. Normally, he wouldn't care if any demon were to die- but when he saw this one start hacking up blood, he felt somewhat compelled to help. But being the guardian angel he was, he waited for the servant of hell to finish.

"Why do /you/ care you fucking brat?" The /word for demon here/ spat. The demon was right. Why did Eren care? Out of all the demons he had killed, why was this one any better than all the rest?

"That's what I thought." The demon's voice broke the angel from his thoughts. "Now, are you done interrogating me? Or do you get off on this, you sick twisted bastard?"

"I-I don't-" he paused, letting out a sigh of defeat. Looking over the demons blood stained clothing, Eren spoke up. "I'm going to run a bath," he stated with no emotion present in his voice. "I'm assuming your wounds have closed up enough that you won't bleed out in the water, so I need you to rinse off the dried blood before I can re-stitch any of your wounds, because I am sure as Hell," slightly-offensive pun, check, "not hand-washing you."

"So now I'm the disgusting one?" 'Well yeah, like you're covered in blood' The guardian angel thought. Instead- he didn't say anything. He just walked away.

'Sassy walk, check.'

The angel strutted into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Not caring about the looks of the bathroom, he crouched near the bathtub, twisting the knobs to start the rushing water.

His green eyes stared at the steady streaming water from the faucet, his mind getting lost in his thoughts as he watched it's entrancing flow.

_A young boy rushed through the thick layer of mud, racing to his small home from his school._

_"Eren! Slow down!" A female voice rang through the heavy downpour. A tall girl caught up to her younger brother. The brunette looked back at her, confused._

_"Yes Mikasa?" The eleven year old turned, facing his now annoyed thirteen year old sister._

_"You know better than to not run in the rain! You'll trip!" The black haired female scolded, causing Eren to laugh. _  
_"I won't fall! Trust me!" Eren beamed, putting his hands on his hips and smiled a proud smile._

_He turned and began to ran, and when he was a good distance away from his blue house-_

_He fell._

_Tears appeared in the corner of his jade eyes. His scraped knees oozed put blood, staining the muddy water a faint red. Mud covered his small body head to toe._

_"Eren! I told you! Are you okay?" Mikasa crouched down next to her brother, helping him up. He watched the young boy shake his head no, looking at his cut up knee._

_"Come on, let's get that bandaged up." She sighed, helping him to his feet. Together, the two wobbled home._

_'Thank god that mother isn't home.' Eren thought as Mikasa walked him to their small home. The teenage girl walked into their small bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet. She grabbed the first-aid kit from under the white marble sink._

_Mikasa mended to his wounds carefully, wrapping a gauze around his leg._

_"I want to be able to do this when I get older!" Eren blurted out. Mikasa laughed, and ruffled his hair._

_"One day when you have your own children- you will be able to do this all by yourself, alright?"_

_Eren nodded, forgetting about the pain for a moment._

_"I am glad mom isn't home. She would freak if she saw you like this." Mikasa giggled, grabbing a towel and wiping the brown mud off her small brother._

_The front door slammed open, and the sound of high heels filled the home rather quickly. He stiffened just like his sister did as the footsteps came closer to the bathroom._

_"Why are you-" She stopped, opening the door to reveal her son covered in mud. Instantly, she went into mother mode._

_"What happened to you, Eren?!" She yelled, picking her son up to examine him. Her eyes landed on his bandaged knee, her brown eyes in a worried panic._

_"Mom- it's fine," The brunette assured, "I just was running in the mud and fell." He hoped his mother would shake it off like it wasn't a big deal, but being the over-protective mother she was, that was impossible._

_His mother shooed MIkasa out, and started running him a bath. She scolded him in how 'he shouldn't even run in the rain.' The dirty brunette human was placed in the bathtub and was washed thoroughly by his demanding mother._

_The clear water turned a disgusting brown as all the mud was washed off his thin body. HIs mother drained the water after he was finished, drying him off and giving him his pair of pajamas. That night, the small family ate and watched the nightly news. It was a perfect night for a not so perfect family._

Eren snapped back into reality when he felt a cold drop of water roll down his face. He stopped the water and wiped his eyes. He never really thought about his life as a human that much, but when he did, it sparked some kind of human emotion, sadness. The angel stood up and brushed the imaginary dirt of his white clothing and grabbing a white towel from the rack before walking back to where that disgusting demon was.

When he came back into his room, he was greeted with the demon staring off into space, stiff as a board. His breathing seemed to stop- not that a dead creature like him needed to breathe anyway.

"Hey." Eren called, standing in front of the demon- crouching down to get to his level. The demon blinked, but didn't seem to be fully back to reality.

"Hey." The angel tried again, causing the demon's eyes to trail to the guardian angel. Eren sighed and tried again.

"Hey-"

"Shut up, I heard you the first time." The demon spat, forcefully ripping the towel from the angels hands, attempting to stand on his own.

"Right…" Eren muttered, rolling his bright green eyes. He watched the demon stumble his way towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Eren sat on the bed, waiting for the unholy creature to finish cleaning himself up. Half an hour seemed to pass, and Eren started to get irritated. .  
"Hurry up if you want anything to heal right." He yelled after he knocked once. "I still need to fix the stitches on your wounds." The servant of God added again.  
"Yeah. I get it you angelic asshole." The demon spat quietly. Eren remained in his place, waiting for the demonic being to get out.

Soon, an hour had passed before Eren started to actually get very irritated.

He knocked on the door. "Are you done yet? It's been an hour!"  
No response.  
Eren knocked a second time. "Hey! Hurry up will you!"  
No response .  
The angel stated to knock in an annoying speed. "I swear if I don't get any response from you I'm going to have to use force!"  
Again, no response.

"Here goes nothing." He mumbled, before kicking the door down. Dust filled the air as the white door swung open, the reaction probably starling the demon. Eren heard water splash and saw the demons bloody face look at him.

His face turned red, as he started to stutter.

"I don't- I didn't-" He was cut off by the demon's snickering.

"Pervert." He hell spawn snickered out, causing Eren to walk out the room, his face as red as the demon's blood filled bath.

_'Jesus take the wheel,'_ He thought as he exited the bathroom, the demon's shirtless body fresh in his mind. _'Hurry up and put it in reverse.'_


	5. Unknown (2)

Written by MariahJean7

Being bombarded with questions from a celestial asshole was not what he had imagined waking up to, but he had to admit, it was definitely preferred over what he /had/ expected. So however repetitive the questions seemed, why not humor the being for a moment? It's not like he had many other options. Or anything better to do, for that matter. All he really had to do was buy time. Right, time. Not like he was dead and had an eternity to answer to pointless accusations or anything. Come on, what gave you that impression? He sighed, that murderous glint reappearing in his eyes.  
"Why-" the demon began only to be cut off by his own uncontrollable coughing. The spawn's throat burned, feeling more and more raw with each sharp inhalation. His body shook painfully with each gasp for air - and fuck if there were ever a worse time to revert back to the threatening-ness of a wet sponge.  
He clasped a hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to smother the hacking, and after coughing a few more times, then the seizing gasps came to a reluctant end. Slowly, the hell spawn lowered his hand, gazing down at the palm. The appendage was painted with a fresh coating of reddish liquid, which was already in the process of drying. Ah, yes; blood. The crest of the victim.  
With that, the murderous aura disappeared from the room, only to be replaced with something more morose.  
More crestfallen.  
"Why do /you/ fucking care?" the demon muttered coldly, his lack of eye contact seeming to become more menacing than meek.  
The angel seemed a bit taken aback by his comment, judging by the way his jaw dropped slightly and he failed to retort numerous times. Nothing he was about to say must have seemed clever enough to leave his mind, as he never seemed to be able to get any words out.  
"That's what I thought," the demon stated, tilting his head back somewhat smugly, "Now are you done interrogating me? Or do you get off on this somehow, you sick, twisted bastard?"  
Once again the angel was left speechless and the demon couldn't help but allow a faint smirk to grace his lips in victory.  
Fucking angels and their fucking questioning.  
It was an endless cycle of flat out bullshit, and he just happened to be granted an eternity to endure it.  
How wonderful.  
"I- I don't-" the angel paused in his speech, heaving a sigh of exasperation, "I'm going to run you a bath," he stated plainly, beginning to walk away, "I am assuming that your wounds have closed up enough that you won't bleed out in the water, so I need you to rinse off the dried blood before I can re-stitch anything - seeing as I am sure as Hell not hand washing you."  
A repulsed expression flashed across the angel's face as he disappeared into another room.  
'Oh, so /I'm/ the disgusting one now?' the demon thought, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly. Yeah, right. If /he/ were disgusting, then they were putrid and horrifying.  
The sound of running water dragged him from his small identity crisis.

/It was a telltale sound that would have been comforting - and possibly even somewhat relieving - had the circumstances been different. Had he been alive he may have even made the stretch that it was as close to heaven as he would ever get. But at the moment it was anything but. He knew better than to cling onto false hope.  
This was war.  
/There was no "hope."/  
Hope itself was just a fairytale. Something made up to keep soldiers fighting way back when. It was fictional nonsense. Child's play. And he had no time for that. Sure, he did have eternity, but war does not last forever, regardless of one's lifetime - and he already had one to learn this. Mortal though it was.  
The jingling of keys and clanging of metal forced him back into reality. Right, he didn't have time to be contemplating the universe's greatest and most complex falsehoods.  
/This was war./  
There was no time for such petty things.  
/There was no /hope./  
Hands on his shoulders roughly yanked him up from his place on the floor. They took the demon's arm and contorted it in the most unnatural way possible behind his back, harshly forcing him forwards.  
A faint grimace forced its way onto his face.  
"Well aren't you pleasant," the Hell spawn hissed, tugging slightly in an attempt to free his restricted appendage.  
"Shut up," the angel replied, his voice cold and unforgiving and his grip around the demon's wrist doing anything but loosening.  
Perhaps the angels forgot that they, too, were human at one point or another. Just because they were lucky enough to join the "ninefold celestial hierarchy," or whatever they wanted to call it, and he had the misfortune of damnation, it didn't give them the right to look down on him as if he were some sort of repugnant scum. But that was the one human aspect that must have stuck with them, even after death.  
Not compassion. Not sympathy. Not kindness. Not graciousness. Not empathy.  
Not any of those.  
No; it was pride.  
/It just had to be pride./  
The most disgustingly human aspect to have ever existed.  
All they had to do was cling onto one little factor that made them even the least bit more powerful than another, and all of a sudden they were considering themselves a big deal and getting up on their high horses. Be it the most recent piece of technology or some new clothes, humans always found a reason to claim they were better than one another. Even if - above all else - they were only human. And angels just happened to inherit that trait.  
He found it sick.  
Sick and twisted and above all, /fucking annoying./  
They were no better than he was, the sadistic bastards. They were simply graced with different - /better/ - circumstances. And in his opinion, that was total garbage and he was bullshitted out of a perfectly good afterlife.  
The things he did were things he /had to do./  
I.E.- No choice.  
None at all.  
The demon stumbled over his own feet as the angel shoved him through a door, squinting as blinding white light enveloped him. The sound was close, he noticed, but he was too stunned to realize how god forsakenly close it actually was. They grabbed each of his arms, holding them awkwardly behind him, and forced his head downwards by the hair.  
In that moment he could have sworn his face was on fire. The way his flesh was blistering - it was practically the same as Hell. And he should know. And on top of everything, he could neither see nor breathe. Well, he couldn't see mostly because he had squeezed his eyes shut as not to have them boiled out of his skull. And breathing probably wasn't the best decision, seeing as whatever he had been dunked it was slowly eating away at him from the outside in.  
If he could just breathe, he thought, this would be so much more survivable. But /they/ weren't going to make things even the least bit easy. They were going to make him suffer. And perhaps this was some crazy repentance for sins he had long since forgotten - but he didn't believe that. Not at all.  
He felt the hand that was holding his head under tighten it's grip. It yanked upwards. After he breached the surface, he could have sworn - if only for a moment - that he smelled cooking meat. Perhaps it was a result of the starvation, or perhaps he was just deluded, but he had most certainly just mistaken the scent of his own burning flesh for at least 10 different foodstuffs at once.  
The pain was unbearable, the flesh from his head down practically sizzling and steaming as an after-effect of what could only be holy water.  
Right. Holy water.  
He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that one sooner.  
A voice originating from only a few feet away crashed his train of thought.  
"We /will/ make you talk."/

"Hey," the sound was loud and clear through all the haze, "Snap out of it."  
He could tell where he was. He could make out everything around him. The bed. The nightstand. The walls; decorated with various photographs and paintings of what he assumed to be the ocean. All of it. But he couldn't seem to /comprehend/ any of it.  
"Hey," the voice spoke again, louder and more stern this time.  
The demon looked up, making eye contact with the green-eyed guardian, but he didn't know how or what to respond.  
The voice picked up again, "Hey!-"  
"Shut up," the Hellspawn suddenly blurted, the fog in his mind vanishing as he pushed himself to the edge of the bed, "I heard you the first time."  
The demon reached out, snagging the towel from the angel's hands as he forced himself to stand.  
"Right..." the angel mumbled from beside him.  
Truth be told, the demon hadn't actually heard what the celestial other had said. Though, he could hear that the water was no longer running in the other room, and judging by the towel he was now holding, an assumption could be made that the bath was ready. It was relatively easy to deduce that much. Not to mention that the angel hadn't objected as the demon began hobbling towards what he believed to be the bathroom.

-x-

The room was laid out much like that of an inn. There was a bed up against the wall towards the back that had a relatively tiny dresser beside it, as well as a kitchenette; both off to the right. Off to the left there was a small table, two chairs parallel to it, and in the very back two doors. The door to the right was for the bathroom, the one opposite of it was most likely a closet of some sort. All of the walls were painted white, containing various silver accents.  
The demon sighed, lost in his thoughts and calculations about the place. He wasn't sure how long he'd been like this, but evidently it was long enough that the angel felt it necessary to come banging on the door numerous times. Each time he would say something along the lines of "Hurry up if you want anything to heal right. I still need to fix the stitches on your wounds," and each time the demon would shoo the guardian with one of the many snide remarks catalogued in his mind.  
Though, truth be told, he hadn't even gone near the water.  
The Hellspawn wasn't an idiot. He knew that the angel could have performed any number of blessings in the time it took to fill the tub to the brim, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to take a risk by touching it. The feeling of flesh boiling off bone was not a pleasant one, and the demon knew this all too well. Then again, he wasn't entirely enjoying the feeling of dried blood caked onto his skin and clothing to much, either. That was unpleasant in and of itself.  
He inhaled a deep breath, grasping the edge of the sink, forcing himself into a standing position. He supposed he had to at least try it. And if not now, when? Most things were better sooner than later - in his experience, anyway. The demon wobbled over to the bath, crouching beside it. This was it. If he were going to risk his perfectly good skin again, he'd best do it now. Well, it wasn't exactly perfect. Mostly scarred and bloody, but that wasn't the point.  
'Now or never,' the spawn thought, ' Now or never...'  
His hand hovered over the glossy surface of the water for a moment, tension hanging in the air like the echo of distant thunder. But he did have to get this over with. So, mentally making a vow to kill the angel if the water burned him in any way, shape, or form, the demon dunked his hand in.  
He gawked at the water, flipping his hand over and gazing at his palm. Sure, the water was a bit warm, granted that all bath water was supposed to be warm. But it didn't burn.  
/It didn't burn./  
Just to be certain that he wasn't in shock, the demon cupped his free hand, scooping up some water and pouring it down his arm. Still nothing.  
He was baffled. Completely and utterly baffled.  
A sudden rush of adrenaline shot through his body, causing the spawn to jolt onto his feet. He stumbled back over towards the door, yanking a set of towels off the rack and plopping them on the edge of the sink counter. Next, he peeled off his clothes, examining the articles for a moment. Every last piece had managed to retain a reddish tinge, despite being black. But the smell - the smell was the worst part. They /reeked./ Death, decay, rot; you name it, he smelled it, still lingering on his clothing. It was repulsive.  
The demon tossed them to the side, making the decision to save them for later. Hastily, he unwound the bandages still draped around him, desperately yearning to wash the filth from himself. Most, if not all of the wounds, were still raw and oozing blood, he discovered, and they'd almost completely soaked through the gauze, leaving a sticky residue.  
'It'll wash off,' he thought, running his fingers through his hair and cautiously sliding into the water.  
Immediately the liquid gained a reddish tinge. Be it from the still bleeding wounds or the old blood dissolving off his skin, the demon had no idea. Nor did he care. In fact, the water felt so nice, he hadn't even noticed that the angel had been banging on the door and yelling for almost a solid 2 and a half minutes. He ignored the sound. All he wanted in that moment was to be left alone. That's all he'd wanted for a while now. To be a-  
/Bang!/  
The hell spawn quickly turned his head in the direction of the noise, causing the water to splash and ripple around him. The door was standing wide open, and right there, with a flustered/embarrassed expression plastered on his face, was the angel.  
"I don't- I didn't- I-"  
The demon slowly tilted his head up, countering the guardian's stare with an abruptly menacing one of his own. He snickered slightly.  
"...Pervert."


End file.
